


Demons and Ghosts Part For Him

by scorpiusismypatronus



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: 'je suis prêt':i am ready, /strums guitar/ how messed up can i getttttt, Abuse, Abusive Dad, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Blood Quill, Child Abuse, Draco is abusive, Draco is evil, French, Heavy Angst, IMMA GO TO IRELAND SOMEDAY ITLL BE GREAT, LMAO, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Scor is sad, Scor's mum is french, Scorpius might be clinically insane i havent decided, Self-Harm, bon chance : good luck, es-tu prêt? : are u ready?, for my non-french-speaking friends, i wouldve thought that was obvious ?, im kidding, inspired by a line in my journal from when i was 13, mARRY ME AOIFE, magical self harm, mon amour : my love, please, shoving my problems onto fictional characters again (:, that was the hellyear to end all hellyears, the line "these words are knives that often leave scars", there's some French, this is more like my journals and less like the rest of my fics, uh shoutout to my friend aoife i love her ???, uh what r u guys doing scor is NOT a bottom he's a top, write whatever u want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10038425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiusismypatronus/pseuds/scorpiusismypatronus
Summary: Scorpius is depressed and his father is abusive and no one knows about the demons.





	

**Author's Note:**

> big tw for self harm and child abuse... this is not a fluffy fic

Malfoy Manor scared him.

 

There were demons, so many demons, in the walls.

 

Screams and demons and tears.

 

His pillow got heavier every night with the weight of dreams and tears and fear.

 

It hurt to carry now.

 

He'd be getting away from his father. His father painted demons into the walls.

 

But he'd be leaving his mum with the ghosts sewn into the quilts.

 

He stared down at his arms.

 

The quill. The quill his dad made him use.

 

Every time he got in trouble. Every time he did something wrong.

 

Etched into his arms. All the sins he'd committed in his father's stone-grey eyes.

 

_I must not tell lies_

_I must not be lazy_

_I must not be sarcastic_

_I must respect my superiors_

_I must not be arrogant_

_I must do what I am told_

_I must not tell_

 

And two he'd added himself:

 

_I am worthless_

_I am unloved_

 

He stared. And looked up.

 

The door opened. The demons parted as his mother stepped into the room.

 

"Scorpius, _chérie, es-tu prêt_?"

 

" _Oui. Je suis prêt_."

 

His mother smiled. "Let's go to the Hogwarts Express. _Bon chance, mon amour._ "

 

**************

 

Night. The flames he was staring in flickered.

 

He was wearing short sleeves.

 

No one was there to see.

 

It was 01h14 on Christmas morning. No one would be awake.

 

No one would see.

 

Hogwarts was nice. There were no demons, not even in the flames. Not even when they told him he was the son of the Dark Lord. Sometimes a ghost would float out of the walls, but they weren't as bad as the demons.

 

Flame was peaceful, he thought. He'd never broken down if there was fire around.

 

Then he heard the footsteps.

 

He turned.

 

Albus Potter.

 

His best friend.

 

"Merry Christmas," said Scorpius, doing his best impression of someone who was okay and mentally healthy.

 

Albus said, "What happened to your arm?"

 

"Nothing," he said, not bothering to move.

 

Albus ran his fingers over the scars. "Who... Scorpius..."

 

"My dad has a quill. He... he makes me do this."

 

"it's not true. None of it," said Albus. "Don't listen to him. You're not lazy, you're not arrogant, and you're _not_ worthless."

 

"I did that one," whispered Scorpius. "Summer before first year."

 

And the world got that much darker. Scorpius could see the light in the room of Albus's mind dim.

 

"It's not true."

 

"But it is." His voice cracked.

 

"I know you don't see what I see, Scorpius, but... you're more. You're so much more than you think."

 

**************

 

"Merry Christmas, read this," said Albus.

 

Scorpius read through the list, the paper crinkling in his hand. It was Albus's handwriting - smudged; he was a lefty - in black ink on crumpled parchment.

 

_Honest_

_hardworking_

_loyal_

_brave_

_independent_

_confident_

_loved_

_valued_

_beautiful_

_brilliant_

 

"Albus," he whispered.

 

And then he was crying into his shoulder. "There aren't demons when I'm with you. No demons or ghosts," he murmured.

 

It probably didn't make sense. He didn't care.

 

"Well, you block out the glances. We balance each other out."

 

And Scorpius smiled.


End file.
